


Forget Me (Not)

by liraeth_archive



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 16:40:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18832555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liraeth_archive/pseuds/liraeth_archive
Summary: Originally Published c. 2002





	Forget Me (Not)

This fanfic was written circa 2002 under the penname Aya and is being added to AO3 for archiving purposes only.

 

Summary: My take on how Aragorn and Arwen originally met... and fell in love. Written as a challenge fic for [Orliefic](https://web.archive.org/web/20060511055210/http://www.groups.yahoo.com/group/orliefic). A one-shot.

 

***

 

“Are you sure that this is your will?” A pair of dark blue eyes looked questioningly at the smaller figure before him, silently begging the other man not to confirm his decision.

 The other man nodded, brown eyes focused intently on the ground before him. “Yes, My Lord.” He said. “My place is not here, among the Elves. I belong among Men, and the Dúnedain of the North know of my coming, and await my arrival.”

 The Elf sighed. “Arwen will be greatly disappointed to see you leave.” He said in a final effort. “Aragorn, she loves you. It is not right to just leave her.”

 Aragorn closed his eyes at the thought of leaving behind his love. She was an Elf, the daughter of the Lord Elrond to whom he was speaking. She was beautiful, with long brown hair and clear blue eyes. Elrond did not totally approve of their relationship, but he wanted his daughter to be happy.

 She was going to kill him when she found out what he had just done. Of course she would; at least she would if she ever found out where he’d gone. For him to just leave her without a word would break her heart, and he knew it. But it had to be done, and if it meant her hating him when he returned to Imladris in a few years then he would have to live with it

 “Lord Elrond.” Aragorn spoke hesitantly. “I ask of you not to tell the Lady Arwen where I have gone. It is my presence here in Rivendell that is putting her in danger, for if the Dark Hosts ever discovered my location they would not hesitate to attack. She would follow me if she learnt of my whereabouts, and though I love her with all my heart, I could not bear to see her in danger.”

 The Elf-lord nodded. “I understand, Estel.” He said, using the Man’s Elfish name. “If you mean to leave before she wakes at sunrise, you had best be off.” He didn’t want to see Aragorn go. He had raised him as a son since the Human was only two years old, after his father was murdered, and brought him up as one of his own. That had been in 2933 of this the Third Age, and now almost eighteen years had passed. It had been only a month ago when Aragorn had even learned of his name and ancestry.

 Though he had only known Arwen for a little under a month, the two were already strongly in love and Elrond knew that she would forsake her immortality for him if he asked her to. In a way, he was relieved that his foster-son was leaving, for it meant that his daughter may not leave him and live a mortal life. But he did love the boy, and he knew that he would miss him after he was gone.

 “Take one of our horses.” He said at last. “Elfish horses are faster than those of Men, and if you mean to put good distance between yourself and Imladris tonight you will need all the speed you can get.”

 Aragorn nodded. “Thank you, my Lord.” He said. He moved towards the door, and paused before he exited the room. “Lord Elrond, please tell Arwen… tell Arwen I will always love her.” And then he was gone, the sound of his footsteps echoing down through the hall.

 It was twenty-nine years before Arwen and Aragorn met again.

~

 A trickle of sweat beaded down his forehead and into his eye, but he dared not move to brush it away. Any movement, he knew, would draw the attention of the person he was watching; a person who had a very sharp knife and a bow.  The other person’s blond hair and pointed ears showed him to be an elf, and elves were known to have very good hearing.

 “Who is there?” The elf called out suddenly. His eyes searched the forest for any sign of life. “I know you are here, I can feel your presence. Come out now, in peace, and you will not be harmed.”

 He rose quietly, the leaves around him rustling softly, but the little noise was enough to draw the Elf’s attention right to him. “Who are you?” He asked, knife ready in hand.

 “I am called Strider, a Ranger from the North.” He replied. Strider held both hands out before him, palm up, as a sign of peace. “Please, good Elf, I wish no more than to rest in these woods tonight. I shall be on my way at first light tomorrow.”

 The Elf nodded but did not lower his weapon. “And what business does a Ranger have here in Lorien?” His eyes studied the Man carefully.

 Strider brushed a strand of dark brown hair out of his face as he spoke. “I am looking for someone.” He said. “The  _Istari_ , Gandalf the Grey. Rumor had it that he was seen here not too long ago.”

 Now the Elf relaxed. The name of the Wizard, it seemed, was well known there. “I am Haldir.” He said. “It seems you have arrived too late. Mithrandir left us but a week ago, heading for the Shire to the West. But come, you shall rest tonight here in our woods.”

 “Thank you, Haldir.” The Man followed the Elf through the woods to the center of Lorien.

~

 Arwen sighed, staring up into the trees around her. This place was perfect, and her Grandmother had no objection to her staying there. A soft sound made her turn around to see the Lady Galadriel, her Grandmother, standing there. The Lady of the Woods was the most beautiful Elf Arwen had ever seen; clothed in white, she was the personification of all that is pure and good.

 “It is time for supper.” She said softly. She waited until Arwen had nodded before walking back inside.

 The daughter of Elrond took one more look at the trees before following. She followed the blond Elf down the corridor to the dining hall, where many of the other elfs had already gathered and begun to eat. One lone stranger caught her eye, though.

 He was a mortal Man, with curly brown hair and dark skin. His brown eyes were focused on the elf across from him who Arwen recognized as Haldir. They were talking softly and laughing together. Her gaze lingered on the Man as she took her seat beside Galadriel and Celeborn. He was familiar, but she could not quite place it.

 She wasn’t aware that she had drifted off until a hand lightly touched her shoulder. She looked up at her Grandmother’s worried face.

 “Arwen, are you alright?” She was asking.

 Arwen nodded. “Sorry, I drifted off for a moment.” She shook her head to clear it. “Grandmother, who is that man over there? The one in the brown cloak.” She pointed to the mortal.

 Galadriel smiled knowingly. “He is a Ranger, one of the Dúnedain. His name is Strider.” She responded.

 Frowning, Arwen looked back at the man. She blinked in shock as she realized that he was now staring at her. A small smile graced his lips and he nodded in greeting before returning back to Haldir. “He looks too familiar.” She said after a moment. “Like someone I once knew.”

 The Lady just nodded and didn’t say anything else.

 The rest of dinner passed in silence, with Arwen consintly stealing glances at the stranger. As soon as he had finished eating, he excused himself and left the dining hall. She followed shortly after, her curiosity driving her to find out who this mystery person was. She found him outside, looking up at the stars that were just beginning to show.

 For a minute, she just stood there, watching him watching the stars. Then he lowered his gaze and met hers with his piercing brown eyes. “You are the Lady Arwen, are you not?” He asked softly.

 Arwen nodded. “I am. And you are Strider, the Ranger.” She said. At his nod, she continued. “That is a strange name for anyone, even a Ranger. I do not believe that it is truly your real name.” As soon as she’d said those words, she instantly took them back. Blushing, she glanced up to see what his reaction would be to her rude comment.

 Strider, or whatever his name was, had a look of mild amusement on his features. “Ah, Arwen.” He said. “You always did speak your mind. But you are correct, of course. Strider is the name I travel under.”

 He didn’t need to say anything else as recognition dawned on the elf’s face. “It can’t be...” She whispered. “Aragorn?” It had been years since she had last seen him, and since then she’d kept thinking of him. Though they had only met once or twice, she was beginning to fall in love with him. And now that he was older, she found the love for him returning ten-fold

 Aragon, for it was he, nodded again. That was enough, and Arwen threw herself into his arms. He kissed her brow gently, then moved down to her lips and captured them in a light kiss.

 “Where were you? Where did you go? You just vanished, and no one would say anything of your whereabouts.” The questions gushed out of her mouth.

 “I could not stay among the immortal.” He said. “I needed to be among my own people, so I became a Ranger. But none of that is important right now.” He tilted her head up and caught her lips in another, more passionate kiss.

 High above them, Galadriel watched the two with a soft smile on her lips. The mirror had shown what was to happen in the future, and she knew that her Granddaughter was with the man she belonged with.   
 


End file.
